A Few More Poems here see the end
Of rhythm and rhyme as I knew it then;
My tome has revealed what I knew as lies,
The way I have bent, even I am surprised;
I’ve brought up a friend, metaphorically called,
Where the realistic, to the abstract, has downfalls.
Look at this- the structure- what can it be?
What has this anthology done to me?
Where I once had a pattern, only madness is alive,
In my heart still though I hope to strive.
If this is my new way, then so let it be,
It’ll evolve once again through anthology three…
(Thirteen lines for a poem, now am I absurd?)